


The House Always Wins

by Ulliva



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pygmalion and Galatea (Hellenistic Religion & Lore) Fusion, M/M, Magic Realism, Paranormal, definitely also smut at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2019-12-25 20:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulliva/pseuds/Ulliva
Summary: Armie is a sculptor living in Las Vegas. Some weird shit goes down.





	1. Mercury

 

Five text messages, four missed calls, one voicemail. I dropped my keys on the coffee table and sighed as the robotic female voice informed me exactly when I’d missed a call.

 _‘Armie. You better not be doing something stupid,’_ Nick started, charming as ever. _‘Where the fuck are you?’_ Then the voice was back. Whether or not I wanted to delete this message. I deleted it and called Nick back. I dropped myself on the couch and heard Archie stir in the kitchen. If I turned the lights on, he’d probably think it was dinnertime.

Despite it being the middle of the night, Nick’s phone only rang once.

‘Where _the fuck_ are you?’ came again, clear as day. He hadn’t gone to bed yet.

‘I’m home. I just went for a drive,’ I sighed.

‘Oh, just a drive. That’s alright then.’ I could tell from his tone that it wasn’t alright.

‘You told me to stop texting while I’m in the car,’ I tried to defend myself.

‘Jesus, Armie. You’re the bane of my existence.’ I dared to chuckle. He was angry, but I was easily forgiven. ‘You can’t text people that kind of shit and then disappear. We were all waiting for you at dinner. What the fuck happened?’

‘They’re not taking them,’ I said. I was doing a lot of sighing. The drive had calmed me down a little, but being back home brought me down to earth. I had two life-size marble statues sitting in the basement that no one wanted. Months of work, right under my feet. Thousands of dollars. I vaguely remembered texting Nick that it had all been for nothing. I heard him sigh back at me.

‘You knew that was a gamble,’ he reminded me.

‘I don’t do copies,’ I told him. I’d told him, told the buyer. I’d been repeating it to myself as a mantra all night. I don’t do copies. If they want copies they should have gotten bronze, not hand-carved marble. That had somehow made things worse. Maybe I could work together with someone to get a bronze cast done. Only of the girl. They’d go with bronze. With time, the patina would make them appear gold. Especially in the chest area. I felt myself getting angry again.

‘So they’re not paying you?’

‘They wanted two girls for the main staircase. I fucked up,’ I shrugged. I’d made it past denial.

‘They won’t even take the girl? What’s wrong with her?’

‘They wanted two. They’re not gonna put one statue in their lobby and then wait six months for the other. I already told them I won’t do it. I don’t do copies,’ I repeated.

‘So sue them for half the money , you did half the work,’ Nick almost exclaimed.

‘I’m not suing a casino, Nick.’ Silence on the other end.

‘I’ll just ask my dad to help me out for a while. You know he doesn’t mind.’

‘You mind.’ I did. ‘Do you want me to come over? I have leftovers.’ I glanced down at my watch. It was after three.

‘That’s alright. I stopped for gas past Mercury and got some taquitos. Spicy sausage, they were pretty good actually.’ All I heard was breathy laughter.

‘Well, sounds like you’re alright. I’m gonna hit the sack,’ Nick said.

‘Right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ I replied. He barely mumbled a ‘night’ before hanging up.

 

Apart from my foul mood, my usual back- and headache, and a faint stomach ache from the spicy sausage, my hands were killing me. My knuckles hurt and my fingertips felt like they had burns on them. I filled a large salad bowl with hot water and watched two heaped spoons of Epsom salt dissolve. I submerged both hands and stretched my fingers, made a claw, stretched them again. I could do nothing but sit and think. Idle hands and something about the devil.

I’d been sanding both sculptures right up to the moment Mr. Naso had called to announce his arrival. It’d gone well. He and Sulmo—his partner in every way—were Italians and they’d been impressed with my work so far. I’d led them around the house, and they’d enjoyed my rock garden. Too wet and cold in Europe, they’d told me. We’d entered my studio from the garden level. It wasn’t visible from the street, and in relation to the rest of the house it was the basement, but because it was south-facing, it was the brightest space I had. They’d loved that too.

I’d shown them the girl first. She was plump, innocent and soft-looking, almost six feet tall, and she’d eventually be towering over the lobby staircase with her twin. The owner of the casino had asked me to make her tunic look sheerer, so he could ‘catch some nipple’. Naso had led him away from that idea. I felt like we were on the same page. The only problem was that I hadn’t made her twin identical. They could only be fraternal, because her twin was a boy. His reveal was accompanied by gasps, and initially, I thought that was a good thing. I was amongst men who loved men, and he was beautiful. I was ready to go into defense mode though. Maybe I could convince them that this had just happened, that his shape had just flown from my hands as I let them take over. That his square jaw and flat chest had been completely unplanned. That I hadn’t sketched him from all angles to make the careless slouch in his back look graceful. That I hadn’t dreamed about his face. They were all happy mistakes.

They’d loved him. His face was so lifelike, the polished Carrara marble making his skin look real. Like he was just a very pale young man coming back from a jog. I’d joked about the chiton that draped over one shoulder. Their boss would be happy to see the nipple he’d asked for. But I couldn’t win them over with excuses or jokes. It wasn’t their own money they were spending. If it was, they would have in a heartbeat.

Phone calls were made and pictures were taken and relayed. The boy was a no-go. The scheduled pickup would be delayed until further notice. I was asked to make the other girl as ordered but declined. I knew it was stupid and stubborn, but I wasn’t a printer. I always colored outside the lines a little, and people had always gone along with it. Of course, I’d been told no before, but it had never been such an expensive no. This was too much of a deviation from the plan. I’d hit a wall.

The water had gone lukewarm, and my fingers were a little less stiff. I cracked both hands once and poured the water out. Archie winced and watched me attentively.

‘Not a bowl of food, Archie,’ I told him. I showed him the empty bowl and he licked the few drops of water that landed on the tile. I put the bowl upside down on the dish rack and hit the light switch.

I meant to go up to bed, but found myself descending the short staircase into my studio. I could always auction them off separately. I would have made more on them as a pair, but someone would probably like to have a marble statue by their pool or in the bathroom. I could at least earn back the cost. I stopped on the last step. I didn’t turn on the lights. The room was illuminated enough from the moonlight streaming in through the big window for me to see something wasn’t right. When I did flip the light switch, my worries were confirmed. I had covered both sculptures before I’d texted Nick and had gone for a midnight drive through the desert. In front of me stood only one. I knew which one, but unfroze myself and lifted the sheet that covered her to reveal a sandal. The boy was barefoot. Had been barefoot. Grecian feet; his second toe longer than the first, the three after that perfectly tapering down to the shortest. His sheet hung over my step ladder. The back door was closed, and I’d unlocked the front when I came home. It was like he’d just walked out and closed the door behind him.

He was gone. I felt nothing. I turned the lights back off and toed upstairs. I had room in my studio again. I could call Naso tomorrow and tell him I’d make a copy if they let me keep the advance I’d been paid. Sellout.

 

 

My mouth was dry when I woke up. I felt like I was hungover, despite not having had a single drink the day before. I cleared my throat and tried to focus on my phone. It was after nine; office hours. I could call Naso now. I went through my contacts, and out of habit, called Nick. It rang for a moment so I got out of bed and went downstairs to feed Archie.

‘Morning,’ I heard.

‘Hi. Sorry,’ I started.

‘No worries, what’s up?’

‘Archie, slow,’ I warned the dog. I didn’t want to have to scrub vomit out of the carpet later. ‘Eat. Slowly.’ I put a foot over his bowl and waited until he sat down. He started eating at a normal pace after that. ‘Someone fucking stole one of the statues,’ I then said. I had no evidence, but it was the only logical explanation.

‘What?!’

‘I don’t know, man. Someone must have come in and taken it, it’s fucking gone,’ I repeated. I neglected to get myself a drink of water and walked down the stairs barefoot. I knew that was ill-advised in any workshop, so I treaded carefully.

‘Doesn’t that thing weigh like a ton?’

The sun was brighter here than in any other room in the house, so I blinked against the light a couple of times once I made it downstairs. The sheet was no longer on the stepladder, but back over the sculpture.

‘One sec,’ I told Nick.

I put my phone down on the stairs and tugged the sheet off. The statue of the boy faintly smiled as it looked over my shoulder, his one palm turned up as if to say _‘something wrong?’_. I huffed, checked the back door like some dimwit and picked my phone up again.

‘I’m back,’ I announced. ‘Yeah, I don’t know what I was smoking last night, he’s right here.’

‘What?’

‘They’re both in the studio. Must have been sleepwalking or something.’ It was the only explanation I could come up with on such short notice. Nick laughed.

‘Well, that’s good news.’

‘Yeah.’ I scratched my beard.‘Anyway. Can I buy you a taquito to make up for last night?’

‘It’s nine in the morning, Armie.’

‘Pick you up in half an hour.’

 

 

I explained the whole situation to Nick in the car. He nodded along and picked my side at the appropriate moments. He was as outraged as I was and just as quickly picked up my ‘fuck it’ attitude. He somehow looked worse than me. I felt like we’d been driving for too long. We’d passed Indian Springs a while ago, and once I saw the exit for Mercury, I knew I’d gone too far.

‘Something wrong?’ I thought of the statue’s upturned palm again.

‘No, I’m just thinking—maybe I missed it.’

‘Not a lot of wrong turns to take here,’ Nick joked. There was dirt left, right and center. I could look in my mirror and see that we hadn’t missed any gas station.

‘I know,’ I admitted.

‘Maybe you dreamed the taquitos too.’

‘I didn’t dream getting gas. I have gas,’ I tapped the arrow pointing to a full tank on my dashboard.

I kept driving until we saw the next sign of civilization. There were a couple of buildings on both sides of the road, including a gas station.

‘This it?’

‘No,’ I told Nick, but I pulled in anyway. I’d promised him breakfast.

‘Are you sure?’

‘It was like a 7/11,’ I remembered. This building was not. It was a large castle-like building made up out of milled logs. Big block letters shouted ‘FORT AMARGOSA’.

I parked as close to the entrance as possible and followed Nick inside. One side of the building was a store with Death Valley memorabilia and alien trinkets. The clerk behind the counter welcomed us. We took a turn into the diner and were immediately welcomed by a short girl with a spring in her step.

‘Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Patty, how are you today?’

‘We’re good,’ Nick lied for me.

‘Would you like some menus today?’

We nodded and were ushered into a booth in the front. Two large glasses of iced water slammed onto the table. I took a sip that turned into a gulp when I remembered my mouth had been feeling like cotton since I woke up. Nick turned the menu over twice and looked up at the girl.

‘Patty, do you happen to have spicy sausage taquitos?’

‘We have quesadillas,’ she said cheerily, ignoring his request. ‘Any coffee?’

‘Yes. Two coffees and a chicken quesadilla, please,’ Nick ordered for the both of us.

I drank all of the water before my coffee arrived. I drank half of that too.

‘Maybe you drove East,’ Nick offered me. There had to be some explanation.

‘I drove West,’ I told him. ‘West, the road we just took. I’ve driven down that road dozens of times to clear my head.’

 

‘Did you see the gas station those other times too?

‘I don’t know, do you remember all the gas stations you pass?’

Nick shrugged. Patty was back with the quesadilla.

‘Can I ask you something, Patty?’

‘Of course,’ she replied, but she sounded hesitant.

‘Do you know any gas stations between here and Vegas?’

‘Down Route 95? There’s a Shell before Corn Creek. The one after that is only like a mile from the city,’ she said knowingly.

‘Isn’t there one right before the exit to Mercury? Near Camp Desert Rock,’ I described. There had to be. I knew there was. Patty shook her head.

‘I’ve lived here in the valley my whole life, there’s nothing there.’

I smiled and thanked her, finishing the conversation for fear of looking like a lunatic.

‘She’s lived in the valley her whole life? Poor girl. Does she know Vegas is _right there_?’ Nick had eaten a quarter of the quesadilla. He shook his head as he seemed to organize his thoughts. ‘What _were_ you smoking yesterday?’

I pressed my palms into my eye sockets and sighed.

‘I don’t know. I think I need a vacation.’ With no money. Usually, after finishing a job like this, I’d drive to the beach for a few days at least. I knew I needed to call my dad to ask for money with some flimsy excuse. I knew he’d give it to me too, even if just to spite my mother. She’d told me I needed to get a real job instead of ‘doing my art’. She always found the shortest way to make me feel like an idiot. She probably preferred to tell people I had a gambling problem over admitting I chose this career. ’Need a smoke,’ I announced before getting up and walking out.

‘Don’t smoke anything weird!’ I heard as I left the diner.

I walked by the store again with a newfound sympathy for people who claimed to have spotted ufos. It was beyond frustrating to be _so sure_ of something, with no evidence to corroborate it. Because I was sure, even if common sense begged me to admit I made a mistake.

I smoked half my cigarette and went back inside. I was dying to go home and crawl back into bed. I slipped back into the booth to find most of what was supposed to be a shared meal gone.

‘Want a piece?’ I shook my head. ‘This is really good. Maybe this is the same place and the taquitos are a late night special.’ Nick took another bite and nodded approvingly as he chewed.

‘This place closes at ten.’ I’d just read that on the door on my way back in.

‘Then maybe it was the Shell she mentioned.’ I knew it wasn’t.

 

 

 

 

There was no traffic on the way back, so I kept my eyes on the other side of the road at all times. We passed all the markers we’d passed in the other direction. Nick suggested we stop at the Shell, so we did, just to make sure.

There was an older lady behind the counter. The store was small, and it looked like a 7/11. It still wasn’t it. I could tell Nick was hoping I’d recognize this place or have an epiphany of some sort. Anything to indicate that his best friend wasn’t losing his marbles.

‘I mean, dreams can be detailed,’ he finally offered after we’d been sitting in the car in silence after leaving the last gas station without gas or snacks.

‘I guess,’ I said.

‘Right? You were really stressed out. Damn those dream taquitos.’

I snorted.

‘It was _so_ real though,’ I went along with it. ‘The guy heated them up for me and I thought they looked a little dark, but that crunch—‘ I remembered the guy’s shirt; crisp, white, too large on him but he never rolled the sleeves back. There had been a logo on his breast pocket. He heated up two taquitos for me and I burned my mouth twice eating them. He rang me up, I paid cash. I asked him for another taquito for the road, and he told me it was on the house.

 

I dropped Nick off at home. When I parked in my driveway, I felt hesitant to enter my own house. As soon as I walked in, I couldn’t remember if I’d locked my car. I really needed to get my shit together. I headed straight downstairs, still somehow unconvinced that I’d find two statues there. Nick was right, they weighed a ton each; immovable, and especially without leaving a trace. I pulled the sheets off both of them and sat down on the steps to watch. They were beautiful, if I said so myself. Maybe I could make casts so the buyer could see them where they were supposed to be. Not today though. I needed sleep. I ran a hand over the ivy wreath in the girl’s hair before carefully covering her again. I took the second sheet and, before covering the boy too, kissed him on the cheek. I didn’t know where that came from, but it felt appropriate. As I pursed my lips, my tongue pressed against my palate. Towards the front of my mouth, behind my front teeth, there was a loose piece of skin.


	2. Pluto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I'm not exactly sure where this is going. I'm as curious as you are (or aren't).

 

The girl quickly found a new home. Not at the price I’d been hoping for, but it would hold me over for a while, and I wouldn’t have to ask my dad for an allowance. Still, the mood wasn’t celebratory. It looked like I’d be stuck with the statue of the boy for a while. Not a complete surprise, but still disappointing.He was too modest for the local clientele. Not muscular enough, his face too feminine. Too skinny, jaw too square; not feminine enough. I’d watched him for ages, from all angles. Every now and then I’d get up, run a thumb through the dip behind his collarbone. Feel his elbow, as if to check if I could feel his bones. Touch the fingerprintless pads on his fingertips. His nails were short. That reminded me, I had an appointment to get mine done.

 

I let Robin take care of my hands every couple of weeks, just to let her get a feel for it. She wouldn’t let me pay her, so I usually bought her lunch or dinner afterward. She pushed what remained of my cuticles back and filed my nails down. I inspected a freshly removed hangnail.

‘How was your date?’

Robin rolled her eyes, but not at me. She shook her head and wiped the nail on my index finger with something that stung on the raw skin.

‘Sweet girl, but kinda dim,’ she said, honestly disappointed.

‘Dim?’

‘I don’t need a rocket scientist, I do _this_ ,’ she gestured. ‘But she kept scaring herself with the shadow of her dangly earrings on the table. Kept thinking they were bugs.’ I let out a loud laugh and covered my mouth, then quickly put my hand down again. 

‘Sorry. Sweet is good though, right?’

‘Yeah. She’s pretty hot too. Stylish,’ she continued her pro-list. ‘Too bad we’re not the same size. I almost dislocated my hip trying to get into her jeans this morning.’ Robin shot me a smirk. I shook my head at her.

‘Did you hear anything from Nick?’ Robin half-shrugged as she chipped away at my cuticles. ‘Nothing or nothing interesting?’

‘He mentioned you got stuck with your work,’ she finally said. All of my fingers were burning, but I knew it would be worth it. The most annoying part was the pressure she applied just under my nailbed. I let her go to town though, she was new to all this. Instead of sitting around and waiting until one of her paintings sold for a few hundred dollars, she’d specialized in painting miniatures. On nails. She’d decided she could make a couple hundred a day doing freehand nail art, for bachelorettes and such. I was the guineapig, though with distinctly larger hands. More room for activities.

‘Yeah,’ I hummed. I still had half a metric tonne of marble sitting in the basement. That wasn’t what angered me though. I was annoyed at Nick for not telling people about the phone call, or the car ride the next day. He hadn’t mentioned it at dinner with friends, and he evidently hadn’t told Robin. ‘Nothing else?’ Robin put her metal utensil down and sighed at me.

‘Did he say something to you? He knows I’m a lesbian,’ she shook her head.

‘No, no—not like that,’ I assured her. Nick’s crush had been brief, and she’d been very clear with him. She loved dropping the fact that she was a lesbian at least once in every conversation. I had to admit it worked in her favor; She rarely went a weekend without a date.

I couldn’t blame Nick for not telling people about my deranged story and subsequent road trip. Maybe it was for the best. Didn’t want to lose the little face I had left. 

‘I got gas somewhere up Highway 95 from a place that disappeared,’ I blurted. ‘Somewhere near Mercury,’ I added. I tried to make it sound like I was joking, but if she laughed I’d probably need a cry once I got home. I didn’t know who else to tell. She didn’t laugh.

‘It disappeared? Like in front of your eyes?’ She seemed intrigued.

‘No, I—‘ I sighed, looking for a way to explain without sounding completely unhinged. ‘I went back with Nick and it—wasn’t there,’ I said.

‘Are you fucking with me?’ Robin dropped my hand altogether and sat back in her chair for the first time.

‘I was probably stressed or something and took an exit—‘ I started to talk myself out of it.

‘I read about shit like this,’ she cried, almost too excited. ‘It wasn’t deserted? It was just gone,’ she confirmed. I nodded. ‘Okay, because Mercury is like—deserted.’

‘No, it was just gone.’

‘What did it look like? Was it old-timey? Were there people there?’ Her eyes were round and shiny. I was excited by her excitement, but I still didn’t feel comfortable to really share. Definitely not the part where one of the statues went missing and then reappeared in a possibly related psychotic episode. Maybe telling her at all had been a mistake.

‘It looked normal. There was some—kid working there,’ I told her truthfully. She ran her tongue over the insides of her cheeks, apparently mulling over my answer. She seemed a little disappointed.

‘Please let me know next time you’re going,’ she said. ‘Promise?’ I nodded. She waved her hand back towards her so I put mine on the table. She started unpacking colored jars and laying out brushes. Out came the big UV lamp. ‘Could be aliens,’ she muttered to herself.

‘You said no color,’ I reminded her. Robin’s shoulders slumped dramatically. ‘It’s not aliens. Why would someone travel from a different star to work at a convenience store in the desert?’

‘Perfect disguise. So boring.’ She dipped a tiny brush in a moss green gel. It looked like the brush had no more than one hair on it. ‘You’re perfect for practice though,’ she complained, holding one of my own hands up to my face. ‘Look at those clean nail plates!’

‘I’ll let you paint something on a couple of fingers if you never call them nail plates again.’

‘Nail tableaux,’ she tried. I snorted and put both hands down on the table.

 

I hadn’t been down in my studio in a couple of days, and I felt uneasy sitting anywhere else in the house. I usually spent all my time down there. I tapped my nails against my coffee mug. They felt weird. I ended up with a couple of cacti and a boulder. Very manly, Robin had insisted. It was a nice boulder, I had to admit. Very detailed for the tiny space. My other nails had a layer of clear gel on them. I was to inform Robin when it started chipping. She couldn’t charge people until she was sure the nails would hold at least a fortnight. I stared at them up close for a while. I had nothing to eat in the house and a cup of coffee was the closest thing to a meal I’d been able to get down all day. I’d watched Robin scarf down a loaded salad.

I couldn’t tell what impulse had lifted me out of my chair, but I found myself across the kitchen, taking my keys off the hook by the door. Guess we were going out. I was present enough to check if I had enough gas. Full tank. The car rumbled into a low purr and I backed out of the driveway. I didn’t tell Robin I was going. Didn’t need more witnesses.

It _was_ insanity. I knew that. You can’t do the same thing over and over and expect a different outcome. I couldn’t make the same trip over and over and end up somewhere else. I was just making sure, I convinced myself. I didn’t know what I wanted to make sure.

The illuminated map in my dashboard showed me a long, fairly straight, straightforward road. I passed a service station. The yellow shell on the side of the road mirrored on the map. I kept checking it as a light in the distance came closer. This couldn't be it. I’d passed here with Nick in broad daylight, and there had been nothing. I could see the white concrete canopy over the pumps to my right, clear as day. The light was coming from inside the store. I passed the price mast. Regular was two eighty-four. Regular.

I locked my car after I got out and immediately wondered if that was necessary. It didn’t look like anyone else was around for miles. I told myself that wasn’t unusual. I’d already passed two gas stations on my way out of town. There was no one at the cash register. It was just me, in this empty store. Music I only vaguely recognized. There was some rustling in the back and then dark curls. The white shirt with the long sleeves. They only made sense for someone working in a brutally airconditioned environment all day.

‘I’ll be right with you!’ He called from the back. I stood there and waited, trying to come up with a reason to be there. I didn’t need gas. The kid half-skipped in my direction and slipped behind the counter. He shot me a wide, closed-mouth smile. His face was questioning, but I waited for the actual words. ‘What can I get you today?’

Did he specify today because he remembered me or was I that annoying customer that thought everything was personal? _Reply_ , Armie.

‘I—uh,’ I started unsuccessfully. I looked out at my car that was clearly not parked at a pump. He saw it too. ‘Do you still have those taquitos?’ It was a valid question. They were actually good, and my mouth filled with saliva as soon as I thought about them. I needed some solid food.

‘They’re that good, huh?’ So he did remember. He shot me another smile before turning around and reaching into the warmer. ‘Hot-hot?’ I nodded. ‘How many would you like?’

‘Two—two’s good,’ I decided. Two would give me some time to hang out. He put them in the microwave behind the counter and slammed the door, set the timer, turned back to me, crossed his arms. Another closed-mouth smile.

‘You drove all the way out here for this?’ His eyes narrowed at me and his mouth openedlike he was about to say something else. Nothing came. I didn't really have an answer for him.

‘Uh—yeah. Nice day for a drive,’ I replied. He looked outside again. The sky was pitch black, and the heat was pressing. It was a nice night to sit in the car, because at least the car had AC. He smiled again and turned around as the microwave beeped loudly. His neck was long. A curl hit just below his ear. It was perfectly round, like someone had purposely laid it against the white skin. He was so pale for Vegas. Ridiculous. I cleared my throat.

He handed me the taquitos. The cheese looked dangerously hot and I’d definitely burn my mouth on them.

‘It’s two-fifty,’ he said. I knew it was. I dug a hand in my pocket and came up with a handful of coins. I poured some out on the counter and shoved them over, counting. ‘I like your nails.’ There was a soft laugh. ‘Manly,’ he added.

‘Oh—thanks,’ I replied. ‘A friend of mine—‘ I held out all ten fingers and let him admire them. I’d reached two-fifty in quarters and went to pick up the rest. My nails were so short and blunt it took what seemed like a lifetime to pick up a single coin. I felt his eyes on me. In the meantime, he’d counted and dropped the change in the cash register. I scratched at another quarter. ‘You know what, keep the change,’ I decided, my face heating up. I’d made enough of a fool of myself. The kid laughed. Louder this time, like we were more familiar by now. Still breathy.

‘Thank you, Mr. Hammer,’ he chimed. I gaped at him as he opened the cash drawer again and dropped the coins in.

‘How do you know my name?’

‘I know everything,’ he quickly replied without looking up. A curl on his forehead. His lips pulled into a grin. His nose was small. It wouldn’t look out of place on a girl’s face. He looked up when I stayed silent and cocked his head to the side. ‘I read it off your credit card—the other day? I’m sorry. I do that—sometimes,’ he explained. There was a coyness about him. It seemed fake.

I decided to laugh it off and made a mental note to check my transactions. I couldn’t remember how long he’d handled my card. I picked up a taquito and bit it, immediately burning my bottom lip. I scalded the roof of my mouth as I chewed but kept a straight face.

‘Do you always work nights—‘ I peered over the counter to decipher the name tag on his chest. It was long, and the font small. He leaned his shoulder towards me a little. The shirt was so big on him. The collar stood half an inch from his neck. I was sure I’d be able to look down it if he leaned forward. Timothée.

‘Timmy,’ he told me before I could read it out loud. I couldn’t blame him for shortening it. ‘It depends,’ he shrugged in reply to my previous question. I’d forgotten what I’d asked. I nodded and took another bite, and another when he didn’t fill in the silence I’d left.

‘Still good,’ I finally told him. He smiled.

‘Are you going somewhere when you pass here?’

‘No,’ I replied bluntly. I realized I probably needed an explanation for aimlessly driving through the desert at night. ‘I need to clear my mind sometimes,’ I added.

‘Just—out,’ Timmy summarized.

‘Just out,’ I confirmed.

He seemed pleased with that answer. The conversation kept ending, and I couldn’t think of acceptable ways to keep reviving it. He was a gas station clerk. I wasn’t buying gas. I could hardly ask him why I hadn’t been able to find this place, and tell him I was only out here because I needed to convince myself I wasn't losing my mind. Timmy scratched his head, apparently also out of ideas. We’d covered the weather. Occupation seemed safe.

‘I’m an artist,’ I said, making it sound like a continuation of the previous answer. I needed to clear my mind sometimes because I was an artist. Get those creative juices flowing. I didn’t say that out loud. ‘A sculptor,’ I specified. Timmy just smiled again. I wanted to stay, as if I needed more time to convince myself this was a real place and I was talking to a real person. I felt my legs pull me towards the door though. My body wanted out of this awkward situation. I decided to obey. ‘I should head back,’ I decided.

‘Safe trip,’ Timmy nodded. I don’t know why it sounded like a threat. As if something was about to go horribly wrong on the straightest piece of road in the state. Everything seemed ominous. Some paranoia on the side of my apparent hallucinations. This was just a twenty-something kid picking up night shifts for some pocket money. He was probably either shy or high—or both. Maybe I needed a smoke. I wouldn’t be so stuck in my head.

‘Have a good night,’ I nodded politely. ‘See you around.’ It came out as a question, and Timmy replied.

‘I’ll be here,' he sang. It sounded like an invitation.

I got into my car and slammed the door. The lights turned off and I stared into the bright store, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see me sitting in the dark. I shook my head. I needed to _chill_. 

 

When I came home, I went straight to bed. I hadn’t checked the time before I got in, but I could tell I’d slept for a long time when I woke up. My mouth was dry, my legs were heavy, and my forehead felt shiny. I vaguely remembered dreaming, waking up, turning over, going back to sleep. It felt like ages ago.

I could hear Archie’s paws tapping on the kitchen tile as soon as my foot hit the stairs. I fed him and refreshed the water in his bowl as I waited for my coffee to drip through. He seemed hungry. I tapped the home button on my phone. It was still an acceptable time for his breakfast. No missed calls. That seemed about right. I had to stop myself from biting at my blunt nails. They still felt foreign.

I yawned into my coffee and made my way down to my studio. I needed to feel the sun on my face. I set my mug down on the steps and walked across the room, opened the large door that led into the backyard. Dust flew up and swirled around in the sunlight. It was embarrassing. I needed to clean.

The boy was still beautiful. Every time I finished something I felt like it was my best work. I had to keep reminding myself that that was a good thing; I was still evolving. I reached a hand out to touch his shoulder blade, half expecting it to feel like skin under my fingers. He was cold and smooth. I counted the vertebrae until they disappeared under his curls. The curl behind his ear. I could keep him. It wouldn’t be the wisest decision financially, but I could keep him in my studio. If no one wanted him, maybe he could be mine.

I touched his bare shoulder, and walked around him to watch the slight curve of his bicep. His narrow wrist, hand hanging loosely by his side. I took a step back, stumbled a little. It was as if my body knew before my brain processed it. I stumbled back further, sat on the bottom step and wrapped both hands around my coffee mug, to ground myself. The boy was designed to go on the lefthand side of a grand staircase. His right hand had been turned out, open, welcoming. My eyes went back and forth between his hands. They were graceful, bony, and both resting beside his thighs. I blinked a number of times, as if that would change things. I took three big gulps of coffee, burning my entire mouth. I stared at him over the rim of my mug. Marble didn’t move, I was sure of that. I’d spent enough time wishing it did to know that it didn’t.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE LIVES. I'm very sorry for the hiatus, but life happened. I noticed some people on tumblr were wondering where I'd gone, so if you want you can always contact me there! My URL is surteslevres.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sandwich of two ideas I've had for a while. Since I don't have the attention span to write two fics, I'm smushing them together. Hope you enjoy!


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